That I have so long defer'd answering your very obliging letter has been
altogether owing to the following cause. I proposed sending you a Saxon
ode, accompanied with a Latin literal and an English free version; the
former done by my very learned friend Mr. Lye, from out of whose curious
collections I transcribed both it and the original. But, having left it
with him to give it a revise, he has unfortunately mislaid both the
original and copy, so that, although he has for this month past
occasionally endeavour'd to recover them, he has not been able to
succeed. As soon as they emerge from the immense ocean of his papers,
you may depend upon receiving this curious specimen of Saxon poetry. In
the mean time I would not defer any longer returning you thanks for the
curious and valuable contents of your letter. I admire your Welsh ode
very much; it contains a large portion of the sublime. The images are
very bold and animated, and poured forth with such rapidity, as argues an
uncommon warmth of imagination in the bard, whose mind seems to have been
so filled with his subject, and the several scenes of the war appear to
have so crowded in upon him, that he has not leisure to mark the
transitions with that cool accuracy, which a feebler genius would have
been careful to have done. It is one continued fiery torrent of poetic
flame, which, like the eruptions of Etna, bears down all opposition.
You must pardon me if I think your critical friend quite mistaken in his
remarks on this ode. He confounds two species of poetry as distinct and
different as black and white. Epic poetry delights in circumstance, and
it is only in proportion as it is circumstantial that it has merit; the
very essence of it (as its name implies) is narration. So a narrative,
devoid of all circumstances, must be very jejune, confused, and
unsatisfactory. But here lies the great art of the epic poet,--that he
can be minute and circumstantial without descending from the sublime, or
exciting other than grand and noble ideas. Thus, when Homer describes
the stone, which Diomede threw at AEneas, had be only told us in general
terms, that it was a large one,
[Greek text]
had he stopped here, as many an inferior poet would have done, should we
have had so great an idea of the hero's strength or vigour, as when he
adds the following particular and striking circumstances?
[Greek text].
Iliad E. 1.304.
On the other hand, it is the essence of ode to neglect circumstance,
being more confin'd in its plan, and having the sublime equally for its
object. In order to attain this, it is obliged to deal in general terms,
to give only such hints as will forcibly strike the imagination, from
which we may infer the particulars ourselves. It is no demerit or
disparagement in your bard to have neglected the minute circumstances of
the battle, because it would have been impossible for him to have
described them within the narrow limits of his ode. Here lies his great
merit, that he hints, he drops, and the images he throws out, supply the
absence of a more minute detail, and excite as grand ideas as the best
description could have done. And so far I agree with your critical
friend, that no poet ever hit upon a grander image than that of "_A Menai
heb drai o drallanw_," &c., nor could take a nobler method to excite our
admiration at the prodigious cause of so amazing an effect. So much for
criticism.
Soon after I received your letter I was down at Cambridge, where I had
the good fortune to meet with Mr. Gray, the poet, and spent an afternoon
with him at his chambers. Our discourse turned on you and the Welsh
poetry: I shewed him your letter, and he desired leave to transcribe the
passage relating to King Edward's massacre of the Welsh bards. All the
authority he had before, it seems, was only a short hint in Carte's
history: he seemed very glad of this authentic extract. We both join'd
in wishing a speedy conclusion to your historical labours, that you might
be at leisure to enter upon this far more noble field of ancient British
poetry. Excuse me if I think the recovery of particular facts from
oblivion, any further than as they contribute to throw light upon
compositions, not half of so much consequence to the world, as to recover
the compositions themselves.
Your nation and ours are now happily consolidated in one firm
indissoluble mass, and it is of very little importance, whether Llewelyn
or Edward had the advantage in such a particular encounter. At least
very few (even learned and inquisitive readers) will interest themselves
in such an enquiry,--whereas the productions of genius, let them come
from what quarter they will, are sure to attract the attention of all.
Every reader of taste, of whatever country or faction, listens with
pleasure, and forms a higher or meaner opinion of any people, in
proportion as they are affected by this exertion of their intellectual
powers. To give an instance, that is parallel to your own case, the
Danes and Swedes have, for this century past, been rescuing their ancient
writings from oblivion; they have printed off their Icelandic Histories,
and collected what they could of their ancient Runic Poems. The latter
have attracted the attention of all Europe; while the former are no
otherwise regarded, than as they contribute to throw light on the latter.
A very celebrated Frenchman has lately translated some curious specimens
of them into his own language; and Mr. Dodsley will soon print a curious
Spicilegium of the same kind in English, of which I will procure a copy
and send you when printed off. But who will be at the pains (except a
few northern antiquaries) to give a careful perusal to the other? I have
this moment a voluminous _corpus_ of them (lately borrowed) before me.
Even curious and inquisitive, as you are yourself, into historical facts,
let me ask you if you would be willing to read 800 pages folio, in a
barbarous literal Latin version, concerning the exploits of King Haquin
Sarli; the mighty achievements of Ghorfinne Harlecefni, and of twenty
other valiant barbarians? Yet, when you come to read the native undenied
poetic descriptions of the ancient Runic Bards, their forcible images,
their strong paintings, their curious display of ancient manners, I defy
the most torpid reader not to be animated and affected; and then we are
content to make some enquiry after the history of these savage heroes,
that we may understand the songs of which they are the subjects. In like
manner, with regard to your own Owain Gwynedd, without intending the
least disrespect to so valiant a prince, I believe few readers will
desire to know any further of his history, than as it will serve for a
comment to Gwalchmai's very sublime and animated Ode. After all, I would
not have any historical monuments perish, or be totally neglected. They
may come into use upon a thousand occasions, that we cannot at present
foresee, and therefore I am glad, that the northern nations have been
careful to secure even the above (to us uninteresting) narratives from
destruction. And I should be very glad to have the same care taken of
those of the ancient Britons. But I think the first care is due to these
noble remains of ancient genius, which are in so much greater danger or
perishing, because so much harder to be understood.
How strongly is our curiosity excited by the mention you make (in your
letter to Mr. Williams), of the Epic Poem, written in A.D. 578, and the
other works of Aneurin Gwawdrydd. What a noble field for literary
application to rescue such a fine monument of antiquity from oblivion: to
which every revolving year of delay will most certainly consign it, till
it is lost for ever! _Hic Labor_, _hoc opus_. I hope, dear Sir, you
will take in good part the freedom, with which I have ventured to advise
you on a subject, of which you are so much a better judge than myself;
but my zeal, though it may be blind, is well meant. I would fain excite
you to direct that application, which you so laudably bestow on your
ancient language, in such a manner as may be most profitable to yourself,
and most reputable to your country.
Macpherson goes on furiously in picking up subscriptions for his proposed
Translation of the ancient Epic Poem in the Erse Language; though hardly
one reader in ten believes the specimens produced to be genuine. Much
greater attention would be due to an editor, who rescues the original
itself from oblivion, and fixes its meaning by an accurate version. I
entirely agree with you, that a Latin version, as literal as possible,
should accompany such ancient pieces, but then I would also have you
subjoin at the same time a liberal English translation. By this means
your book will take in all readers, both the learned and the superficial.
This method of publication has been attended with great success among the
northern nations, where all their Runic Pieces have been confronted both
with a literal version in Latin, and a more spirited one in the modern
languages either of Sweden or Denmark. Were you to endeavour to collect
into a corpus all the remains of your ancient poetry, and print it by
subscription begun among your own countrymen, and warmly recommended by
them to us, it would certainly pay well, and be a very valuable present
to the public; but then you ought to send forth a few select pieces into
the world, previous to such an undertaking, to bespeak the good opinion
of mankind, and this, whenever you please to execute it, shall be
attended with my warmest services. In the mean time I hope you will
continue to favour me with specimens of your ancient poetry as often as
your leisure will permit; and, if any thing else that is curious should
occur in the course of your studies, you will confer a great pleasure by
imparting it to,
Dear Sir, your very faithful and obedient servant,
THOMAS PERCY.
_Easton Maudit_, _Oct._ 15, 1761.
N.B. I shall defer sending a specimen of Runic Poetry till I send you
the whole collection printed, which you may depend on. May I hope to see
your Latin Essay on British Poetry?
* * * * *
The same to the same.